


Behind Closed Doors

by triste



Category: No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-10
Updated: 2011-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-22 11:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triste/pseuds/triste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shion has no fashion sense. Nezumi decides it's time to go shopping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind Closed Doors

Title: Behind Closed Doors  
Author: Triste  
Fandom: No. 6  
Pairing: Fem!Nezumi/fem!Shion  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, genderswitch  
Status: Complete  
Disclaimer: Not mine

~~

Shion has no fashion sense. She’s sixteen years old, but she dresses like a grandma. The words ‘fashionable’ and ‘stylish’ are lost on her. She’s perfectly happy to wear frumpy blouses and oversized cardigans. As far as Nezumi is concerned, it’s a crime to keep so covered up. Shion actually has a nice body, and it’s about time she let other people notice.

And so, one day after school, Nezumi takes her out shopping for a new wardrobe. Shion protests, of course. She may be fine with the way she looks, but Nezumi is not.

“You need something more suitable,” she insists, expression determined as she leads the way to the women’s section of the nearest department store.

“Such as?” asks Shion, slightly out of breath from attempting to keep up with Nezumi’s long strides while trying not to bump into any other customers.

“Something to make you look your age. Something tight-fitting. Maybe even something a little revealing.”

Shion frowns in disapproval. “I like what I’m wearing now just fine,” she protests. “I don’t really see what’s so bad about it.”

She doesn’t seem to understand that she could look so much more attractive by merely changing outfits. Shion likes her clothes to be comfortable, sensible and, in Nezumi’s opinion, plain boring. She sticks with colours that are easy on the eye, albeit bland and uninspiring, like brown and black and white, while steering well clear of anything bright and eye catching.

Then again, everything about Shion screams out practical. She never uses make up. Her hair is cut short and neat so she doesn’t have to fuss about with it every morning. Nezumi tells her all the time to grow it longer. Shion likes long hair, or at least Nezumi’s. She can (and often does) spend hours brushing and braiding it, or simply running her fingers through it. It’s almost an obsession, not that Nezumi minds too much. It’s just frustrating that Shion chooses to spend more time and care on someone else’s appearance instead of her own.

While Nezumi is tall and feminine, Shion is short and boyish. It’s not the only difference between them, though. People often describe Nezumi as being ‘willowy’ which is really only a nice way of saying someone is lacking in the chest department. Shion is the opposite. She’s much more well endowed. The worst thing is that she doesn’t seem to notice or care about it. Her cute face and big breasts would be a killer combination if only she bothered showing them off.

“Come on,” says Nezumi, grabbing Shion’s sleeve before she can change her mind and escape. “We’re not done yet.”

Shion sighs and allows herself to be dragged from one aisle to the other, occasionally voicing her protests when Nezumi picks out tank tops and mini skirts for her to try on, but Nezumi doesn’t listen. “I don’t think these are going to suit me,” she says, half heartedly examining the pair of over knee socks Nezumi tosses into the basket. “And I’m not sure my mom would approve.”

“Sure she would. She’s the one who suggested we go shopping in the first place.”

Shion’s eyes widen in disbelief. Then they narrow in suspicion. “You seem to get along very well with her. What do you two talk about behind my back?”

Nezumi gracefully evades the question by steering Shion in the direction of the fitting rooms. “This way. Hurry up and change.”

Shion glances at the various items Nezumi thrusts into her arms with mistrust. “I don’t even know how to put these on,” she confesses.

“Get inside,” Nezumi replies, giving her a little push. “I’ll help.”

There’s just enough space for two people in the stall, but it’s a tight squeeze with all the stuff they’ve brought in with them. Shion begins the process of undressing, and it’s a long one. First she takes off her coat. Nezumi hangs it up for her to keep it out of the way. The cardigan goes next, and the blouse soon follows. Then she ditches the t-shirt. Nezumi wonders how she can stand to have on so many layers when the weather isn’t even all that cold.

It’s only when Shion finally reveals her underwear that Nezumi remembers they’ve forgotten to visit the lingerie section. Shion’s bra, like everything else she owns, is functional and boring. Plain white cotton isn’t sexy at all.

“What’s wrong?” As ever, Shion is oblivious. The fact that Nezumi is blatantly staring doesn’t faze her in the slightest.

Nezumi’s list of complaints is so long, it’s difficult to know where to start. “You seriously need a makeover,” she sighs, hooking a finger under the offending bra strap. “I can’t believe you’re wearing something this dull. Don’t you want to look good?”

“It’s more important to have proper support,” Shion insists.

She has a point (and it’s not something Nezumi has ever had to worry about before, which kind of stings), but it’s still a waste.

Even with the ugly bra, Shion’s breasts are nice to look at. They’re round and firm and practically beg to be touched. It’s all too easy for Nezumi to surrender to the impulse. Shion only gasps when Nezumi cups them in her palms, testing their weight with a lingering squeeze, letting herself be groped like she’s totally okay with it. Then again, she’s always been somewhat strange. She’s always doing what Nezumi least expects. All she does is blush (which, for Shion at least, is a fairly normal response) and bite her lower lip when Nezumi thumbs her nipples through the fabric.

“I think you should stop,” she says.

The words bring Nezumi back to her senses, and she moves away. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to–”

“No,” Shion interrupts, going even redder now. “That’s not it.”

She’s not upset at being fondled. The reason is altogether different. Nezumi doesn’t figure it out at first, but then Shion lowers her gaze, squirming slightly and rubbing her thighs together.

“Oh god,” says Nezumi, trying not to laugh. “I can’t believe you got wet just from that.”

“It’s your fault,” Shion mutters.

“Then I guess it’s time for me to take responsibility.” Nezumi grins wickedly, popping open the buttons on Shion’s pants.

“Wait–” Shion catches her wrist, panicked. “Stop.”

But Nezumi ignores her, working two fingers under Shion’s panties. She really is wet. Nezumi’s fingers slide right in, and she slaps a hand over Shion’s mouth to muffle her moan. Then she hears the sound of footsteps and the curtain being drawn back by the stall next to theirs. Someone’s there, only a few inches away from them, getting changed without any idea what’s happening so close by. Shion whimpers against Nezumi’s hand. Nezumi gives her a soft “shh,” and Shion shudders. Nezumi doesn’t know whether it’s in fear or excitement. It might even be both.

“Be quiet,” she murmurs, lips brushing Shion’s ear. “They won’t find out if they don’t hear you.” Shion nods once in understanding, eyes still wide and startled, but Nezumi keeps her gagged just in case. She scrapes her teeth lightly over Shion’s skin, tracing a path with her tongue down to her pulse point. Shion doesn’t make a sound. “That’s it.” Nezumi presses a gentle kiss to her neck in reward for her silence. “Good girl.”

Shion’s hands tremble as they curl around the lapel of Nezumi’s jacket, but her grip is tight. There’s a whole lot more Nezumi wishes she could do, but quick and dirty is what they’ll have to settle for. She tries not to think about how easy it would be to unbutton Shion’s pants and let them fall to the floor, easier still to unhook her bra and find out what it feels like to touch her without underwear being in the way. Then again, it wouldn’t be such a turn-on otherwise. And it doesn’t take much to arouse Shion, or so it seems.

It’s cute, in an entertaining kind of way, and Nezumi won’t be letting her forget about it anytime soon (she likes Shion’s flustered and exasperated expressions too much to ever stop teasing her, even though she’s not quite as bad as she used to be, but it’s just so worth it to see how many different shades of red Shion’s face is capable of turning).

There is one thing that doesn’t require the removal of clothing, however. Shion gasps when Nezumi pulls her hand away, but that’s the only noise she lets out before Nezumi kisses her. Shion parts her lips under the pressure, an open, eager invitation, and Nezumi slides her tongue inside, mimicking the motions of her fingers down below, loving the way Shion tightens around them, drawing them deeper inside, kissing her again and again until she comes.

She waits for Shion to stop shaking, for her breathing to slowly even out and then, half awed, half scandalised, she looks up, pupils still dilated, and it’s so sexy Nezumi has to steal away one last kiss.

“Next time we do this,” she whispers, giving Shion’s lower lip a quick tug with her teeth, “I’m going to use my mouth on you. I want to find out what you taste like.”

Shion doesn’t seem to have a problem with letting her find out, judging by the way she shivers, but she smiles faintly and says, “But not in another public place, I hope.”

Fitting rooms are technically private, not that Nezumi has any desire to point out this particular fact. She’s too busy eyeing the pile of clothing Shion is supposed to be trying on. Tempting as the idea may be, they can’t just leave them here. Walking out with nothing would look too suspicious, but putting everything back in its rightful place is too much of a pain.

The solution is, then, to dump it all on the nearest shelf, which is precisely what Nezumi does after getting Shion dressed again and dragging her back out into the open. She sneaks guilty glances at the other shoppers as they head toward the exit, fidgeting all the while.

“Stop that,” Nezumi hisses. “You look like you’ve been shoplifting.”

“But we just...” Shion peers over her shoulder in the direction they’ve come from. “In the...”

“Yeah.” Nezumi smirks. “It was great.”

Shion doesn’t seem to think so. She’s convinced that everyone in the store somehow knows what they’ve been doing. Her attempts at acting naturally backfire and leave her looking even more suspicious, but her inability to be anything other than completely honest is something Nezumi has always found herself being drawn to. Shion has no idea how to utilise her appearance, but that’s probably for the best. Besides, flashy outfits attract attention. Shion, with her polite, reserved demeanour (not to mention huge doe eyes and equally oversized bosom), would be an easy target.

Just thinking about it is enough to piss Nezumi off. Shion is hopeless at dealing with people who hit on her. Being socially inept doesn’t help. She’s more comfortable working with machines than other human beings. Machines don’t have feelings, and therefore can’t be hurt. Nezumi, on the other hand, has no problem rejecting unwanted interest. She’s capable of handling any situation. But Shion isn’t. She’s different.

Annoyed, and not simply because of how Shion continues to fret, Nezumi grabs her by the hand. The effect is immediate. Shion stops fumbling with the fastenings on her coat. She doesn’t look at anyone else.

Only Nezumi.

“Thanks,” she says, obviously calmer. At least now she won’t get pulled aside by a security guard on their way out.

“Forget it,” Nezumi tells her gruffly. “All of it. You don’t have to buy new clothes. You’re fine as you are.”

Shion blinks in bemusement. Then she smiles. It lights up her whole face. “That’s a relief. I’m not suited for following trends.”

And Nezumi doesn’t think she could stand being so jealous all the time, but it’s not something Shion needs to know. If she ever gets the urge to play dress up again, well, it’ll have to be behind closed doors.

 

End.


End file.
